Everything went still. Ops fell silent. Coms were filled with static. Alex stared in horror at the monitors illuminating still or dead trackers. And Michael couldn't think. So many agents had been killed, their Dirty Thirty was still wrecking havoc, a civilian was still in danger, and then Sean was down, making Nikita panic. If she didn't refocus, she was going to be lost next. Michael couldn't lose her. He needed her to stay strong. He needed her to bring herself and everyone else home, "Nikita. Nikki! He's fine. His tracker's still on. He's alive. But he won't be for long if you don't engage the target."
The words seemed to help everyone refocus, especially Alex and Nikita. There was still a mission to complete. Letting her rage replace her fear, Nikita raced towards the Dirty Thirty's hideout. That was it. The rogue had to die, and everyone had to be saved. She had just got her brother back (again); she wasn't losing him. A bastard wasn't going to take everything from her or anyone else. Especially not his ex-wife, who was trying to live a life without him.
Her anger helped her complete the mission successfully. Nikita saved the victim, killed the target, orchestrated for the injured agents to be moved to Medical, and cleaned the scene of Division's activities. Ops assisted her, and Owen once he came to. But Nikita was essentially a one-man team. She was determined to end it all. The kind of pain the mission had caused couldn't be allowed to exist. They had to stop hurting. For the futures they all wanted, they needed to do and be better- no more hurt and pain.
Once she was back in Division, all Nikita wanted to do was ensure her brother was okay. Yet she knew she had to give the doctors in Medical space to do their jobs. Besides, he had gained consciousness on the ride back; he was going to pull through. Nikita also had to debrief with her team and clean off her mission filth. Michael looked so relieved to see her, but they didn't speak outside of the debriefing. The only person she talked to in private was Alex as she told her to wait for Medical to clear Sean before seeing him.
Although Alex hesitantly followed the order, Nikita rushed into Medical as soon as she could. She had finished her post-mission duties; she could see her brother and settle her anxiety. The Medical staff didn't seem annoyed to see her. They knew that once she was with Sean she'd leave them alone. She just had to ensure that the mine hadn't caused any permanent damage- that Sean wasn't another person who had suffered so much because of her actions, "Is Sean okay?"
"Concussion and some cuts and bruises. He'll be alright. Though, it's difficult to tell which contusions came from the mine, and which from the fight with Michael," Grinning softly, the doctor informed Nikita. Her brother was fine; he could even go home that night. Although that was positive news, Nikita stared at the doctor incredulously. She couldn't believe what he had just said. It took him a moment to realize that she was shocked about the fight, not Sean. She hadn't known. Smile dropping, the doctor blanched.
"The what?" As soon as the bitter question left her mouth, the doctor turned and ran. Nikita couldn't blame him. It wasn't his job to tell her about the incident between her brother and her fiancé; the two jackasses should've done it themselves.
Absolutely furious, Nikita stomped to Sean's room. She wasn't concerned about his life or wellbeing anymore. She was going to kill him. She had told him not to interfere. She had told him to leave Michael alone. And he went and became an ass. Concussion or not, she was definitely going to wring her brother's neck. She stormed into his room, ignored his grateful smiles at the sight of her, and smacked him upside the head, "Why am I finding out from the fucking doctor that you beat up my fiancé? I told you to leave it alone."
"Ow! I'm concussed!" Sean shrieked. He held his pounding head, trying to comprehend why his sister was hitting him. He hadn't even fully redressed after the doctor's examination. When Nikita had come into the room, he believed she was checking in on him and ensuring that he was alright. He wasn't expecting to be assaulted; though, he did deserve it.
"Not before you fought Michael," Ignoring her brother's pain, Nikita fumed. Apparently, Owen wasn't the first person to kick Michael's ass that day. Sean decided it was a good idea as well. What was wrong with them. That wouldn't fix anything. In fact, Nikita felt like it only made things worse. Why would Michael want to talk to her then if he believed she had sicked people on him. She needed things to be gentle and calm. She didn't need even more hell.
"He's hurting you, Nikki," Sean felt like he had to practically plead with his sister to see that. Yes, he was stupid for fighting Michael in the middle of Medical. But Sean would do it all over again in a second if Michael continued to hurt Nikita. It didn't matter if he was hurting too. What he was doing wasn't right. He shouldn't take out his frustrations on his fiancée. Although she had disabled him, she saved his life. He should be grateful that he was still breathing, and that he still had the chance to be with the love of his life. He was ruining his own life by sulking and pushing everyone away, not her.
Nikita tore her eyes away from her brother. She couldn't look at him anymore. He was right; she was hurt. But she was also angry, frustrated, irritated, and exhausted. She felt like she was ready to blow. Before she ruined her recently rebuilt relationship with her brother, though, she needed a breath of air. She should take a walk, alone. Fortunately, she knew the perfect way to make Sean stay put, "Alex wants to talk to you. So just wait here until she figures that out."
While Nikita stormed out of the room just as she had come in, Sean sat in bewilderment. He couldn't understand a thing his sister said or did. Maybe she was in shock. Or her lack of sleep and wild range of emotions had made her crazy. Either way, he wasn't going to sit in Medical any longer. He was going to find Alex and actually have a conversation with her. Waiting for her to make the first move was stupid. He had messed up; he had to be the one to actively fix it. However, as he was buttoning his shirt, Alex awkwardly walked into his room. She stood close to the doorway and quietly asked, "What'd the doctor say?"
"Concussion. I got some cuts and bruises, but I'll live," Sean shrugged. Alright, so Nikita had made some sense. Alex needed to work up the nerve to talk to him. It was a good thing that he was slow in buttoning his shirt. He and Alex could then talk. Nothing was stopping them. Not even his injuries. He had had worse. She knew that; she had been there when he had been shot. A blow to the head wouldn't keep him down. He was fine. There was no need to worry.
Slowly shuffling further into the room, Alex nodded. She could've guessed that he was perfectly fine by the lack of Nikita's presence in the room. Yet it was still nice to hear, "Good."
"Glad you think so. With the way things have been going between us, I wasn't so sure," A part of him knew he was putting his foot in his mouth with the statement; however, Sean couldn't stop himself from saying it. Alex just stared at him in response. Her expression was unreadable. He tried to study it, yet it was pointless. She wouldn't let him know what she was thinking. He had to keep talking and making up for what he had done, "I wanted you and Nikita to make a choice. Me or this place. That's why I left."
"How could we have made a choice when you were already gone?" Attempting to remain emotionless, Alex replied. Sean had probably already had that discussion with Nikita, gauging by the fact that they weren't on the outs anymore. However, it was worth repeating. Sean had already decided he was leaving, whether Nikita and Alex had agreed or not. He would rather run than fight when things become difficult.
"You could've called," Sean argued. Maybe it was a lame argument. Yet he had given Alex plenty of chances to call him back. He left her message after message without a reply. He hadn't been completely gone. He had always been waiting for her.
"You could've come back," Alex fired back. Sean should've been in Division. Not just for her, but for his sister and the team. They needed him all the time. He couldn't just pick and choose when that was. A team was always there for one another, especially when things turned bad. No one cut and ran. They always fought.
"That's why I'm here," Daring to move closer to Alex, Sean agreed with her. He should've been in Division sooner. But he was there then. He'd help his sister and her fiancé, and he'd help Alex recover from her relapse. Everything he should've been doing, he was going to make up for. He wasn't running anymore. And he'd make sure no one else would either.
Sighing, Alex sat on the edge of the cot. They were just entering a circular argument. She needed to change that. There was a lot more she had to discuss with Sean- things that had really hurt her, "Look. What you said, about what most people would do, don't ever expect that from me. Most people haven't seen their father murdered before their eyes. Most people aren't sold into slavery. I'm not most people. I never have been."
"I know. I know. I should've known that," Hanging his head, Sean apologized. Just as he never should've accused his sister of those awful things, he never should've assumed Alex was normal. She was different. She was special. She was the whole world to him. He should've treated her as such. If he had wanted her by his side, he should've stayed.
"Yeah, you should've," Despite her best efforts, tears choked Alex's voice. She didn't want to break down crying. She had spent enough tears over the subject. She needed to keep it together, even though the wounds around her heart were breaking open again.
Sean had to force himself to not wipe the tears from Alex's eyes. He wanted so badly to caress her cheek. Yet he knew he shouldn't do so without her permission. He had to wait for her to let him back into her heart. Though, he wasn't sure if she'd do that then. He had hurt her terribly. It was going to take a long time to heal from that, "Are you angry?"
"Yes. But not at you," Breathlessly, Alex admitted. She was angry at so many things: Amanda, Ari, the Dirty Thirties, her relapse. But she wasn't angry at Sean. She was far from it.
To prove it to him, Alex surged upwards and kissed Sean. He was taken aback for a second, but only a brief second. Quickly, he adjusted to the wonderful surprise and kissed her back. He cradled her head ever so softly and molded his body against hers. Gently and sweetly the two just kissed. The love poured out on its own.
"I can't do this," Soon forcing herself to break away from the mind numbing kiss, Alex muttered. Sean stepped back and hung his head. Of course she wanted to go slow. They couldn't just dive right into a relationship after what they had been through. That wasn't what Alex was thinking, though. He had misjudged her tone. She slipped off the cot, took Sean's hand in hers, and led him out of Medical, "Not here."
Alex silently led the way to the closest recruit room. Sean was afraid to speak; he didn't want to ruin the moment or make her run off for good. Fortunately for him, that would never happen. The instant the door locked behind them, Alex kissed Sean again. The kiss was far more fiery in private. It led them to tear at clothing and stumble towards the small bed. Although their thoughts began to run wild, they shut them up. They had spent enough time thinking. They should learn to just follow their hearts.
Sitting in the air vents wasn't as cathartic as when Nikita was a recruit. She didn't feel like it was an escape. Her troubles could still find her in the silo. She shouldn't have been running away from them anyway. She had to be strong and confront them head on. Slowly, she crawled out of her favorite hiding spot and went to find Michael. He wasn't in Ops, or his room, or even the old shooting range. Nikita eventually located her fiancé in the former sparring gym. His back was to her, so she wasn't quite certain what he was up to. Yet that didn't really matter. She just had to talk to him. A real conversation was long overdue.
"Wanna go a round? Feel like you owe me after your 'spar' with Sean," Although Nikita wasn't dressed for a sparring match, unlike Michael, she thought she could float the idea out there. The two usually found a way to talk and connect while fighting. Since they weren't communicating any other way, she might as well try engaging him with fists. Michael only guiltily stared at Nikita after the suggestion, however. He clearly felt awful for fighting her brother. She probably shouldn't have joked about it. It was just that she really wanted him to talk to her- to be with her, "I didn't send him, or anyone, to fight you or…"
"I know. And I'm good," Michael cut her off. He had guessed that Nikita didn't send Sean to do anything (and Owen was almost always acting on his own). She was just as surprised by her brother's presence in Division as anyone else. Besides, if Nikita really wanted to kick her fiancé's ass, she'd do it herself. Michael wasn't in the mood to spar with her, though. He'd rather be left alone. He had a lot to work on by himself.
"Your hand not ready?" Instead of leaving after Michael's brush off, Nikita stepped further into the room. She knew by always accepting his refusal to talk she was a part of the problem. She had to keep pushing for communication. She wasn't going to run away like him.
"No," Michael turned his back to Nikita. She wasn't sure if he just wanted her to leave, or if he was lying to her. She assumed both. After fighting both Sean and Owen, his prosthetic had to somewhat work. He probably wanted it to be perfectly controllable before he sparred with her, so he didn't hurt her. Or he simply didn't want to be with her. Again, she assumed both.
Grabbing a pair of sparring gloves, Nikita wasn't giving up. She was going to get Michael to engage. His prosthetic shouldn't have been a concern. After all, he didn't need both hands to take her. Almost a lifetime ago, he had claimed he could best her in a fight with one arm behind his back. That moment was so drastically different than the current one. The two had flirted, joked around, knew there was some kind of future for them if they just fell to temptation. That couldn't have been so far from the present. Unless Nikita actively fought to change it, "Aren't you the guy who told me that you could take me with just one arm?"
"Nice try," Michael scoffed. At least he also remembered that moment from when she was a recruit. It didn't just hold significance for her. He had been just as impacted by it.
"Look, if you don't want to be out in the field anymore, that's fine. Owen's ready to be my partner. Sean's here to stay. And I've worked solo for many years, so I can handle myself," Focusing on securing the sparring gloves to her wrists, Nikita rambled. She wasn't totally fine with Michael not being in the field with her. But if that was what he wanted, then she'd support him. She could adjust to the field without him; she had been without him before, and she was fine. The thing that'd truly break her was if he didn't want to be her partner in every other regard.
"Nikita, what do you want?" Losing his patience, Michael finally looked at his fiancée. He had thought she would've left by then. Nikita hadn't been that stubborn in a while. She must've been fishing for something. Otherwise, why bother sticking around.
"I want you to fight. For me. For us. I don't need you as my partner in the field. I need you as my partner in my life," Nikita finally snapped. She refused to let Michael push her even further away. She wouldn't let him go. He might've known best what he needed to heal- he was suffering too- yet she wouldn't let it be at the extent of her heart any longer. Sean was right. Hell, Owen was right. Michael couldn't walk away from her. She had to fight to make him stay, no matter what that looked like. But he had to fight too, "So fight!"
Michael swung a fist at Nikita. She immediately ducked and returned a jab to his ribs. Somehow, they returned to the same fighting rhythm they had begun when he was her handler and she was his recruit. They struck, dodged, and grappled, trying to take the other down. Eventually, when Nikita thought she had Michael trapped, he kicked her and dropped her to the ground. He pinned her to the mat. She didn't retaliate. Green and brown eyes clashed, and hot heavy breaths mingled. They always found themselves there.
Yet, unlike when she was a recruit, Nikita wasn't afraid to cross the line with Michael then. She grabbed him and kissed him. He was surprised by the move at first. Then, he kissed her back. For one glorious moment, Michael was kissing Nikita again. She wanted to spend forever in that moment. She wanted to be with the man she loved. But they hadn't returned back to that point. She shouldn't rush him. He needed to come back to her when he was ready. She'd always be waiting for him, "You wanna move on? I understand. But I will never move on from you."
Move on- Michael didn't want to move on from Nikita. He was just trying to protect her. But that wasn't how she saw it. Or Sean. Or even Owen. Had he really messed up that badly. Judging by the hurt in his fiancée's eyes, yes he had. He hadn't protected her from his pain or from anything. All he did was hurt her. And he couldn't stand that. He couldn't even face it.
Spotting Michael hurriedly leaving the old sparring gym with tears in his eyes, Birkhoff assumed Nikita had been left inside. He had been trying to find her for a while. She wasn't in Medical with her brother (Sean wasn't there either, and Birkhoff actually had no idea where he had run off to). So she must've been with her fiancé. Whatever the two had talked about, or had not talked about, didn't appear to have gone well. Michael was running away, and Nikita was left on the mat ripping off sparring gloves. Maybe it was a good thing that Birkhoff had changed his mind from earlier. Keeping it to himself would actually be more harmful, "Nikki, we gotta talk."
Nikita just roughly moved her hair out of her face and collapsed her head in her knees. She didn't want to talk to Birkhoff. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody after what just happened with Michael. She'd rather go home alone and suffer another restless night of sleep. Unfortunately, Birkhoff ignored her hint. He moved closer to her and continued talking, despite the bitter tears shining bright in her eyes, "Remember when I said there was nothing better- there were no options for Michael? I lied. There might be something better. But it could open the doors to something a hell of a lot worse."
"What does that mean? What are you talking about?" Nikita was so tired. When she had talked to Birkhoff about a better prosthetic for Michael earlier, he had claimed what he had was the best there was. She had accepted that, and she had kind of moved on. So why was the nerd finding her then and speaking in obscurities. They should just forget about it. Michael had. He had stopped fighting, so they should too. Why not just give up by that point.
"I'm saying, there might be a very real way for Michael to get his hand back," Clutching the tablet in his hands, Birkhoff confessed. The tears and exhaustion in Nikita's brown eyes were slowly replaced with dull hope.
